Redemption
by gaia73
Summary: The Greatest Demon In History Undergoes A " Redemption " To Join The Halliwell Brothers In A Futuristic Nightmare World...
1. An Overview

**Redemption **

**An Overview**

**He was one of the greatest demons in history; they were two of the most powerful witches ever know. Can they join together and save this nightmare world from " The Darkness " ?**

**Floating...just a sensation, a feeling. Wait. I could FEEL! I willed my eyes open and saw grey tendrils wisping passed my face. At first the silence, the lack of ALL sound, was disconcerting, but soon, with a bit of concentration and time to adjust, I began to HEAR.**

**Have you ever listened to voices, or even noises in a fog? The ears begin to play tricks on your other senses, and you can't, no matter how hard you try, truly hear where they are coming from. They waft around on a plane of their own, teasing, tempting those so desperate for the security of another presence. The ability to SEE is so important to those with even a drop of humanity in them.**

**The floating sensation stopped and I cautiously placed my feet on a soft yet unseen surface. All around me the greyness swirled and I heard the voices. Louder now, yet sweet; a yearning began in me. Contact, even with those in Limbo, was what I now thirsted for. How much time had passed? How long had I drifted after my visit to a dying Piper, a visit that drained me of what little human power I had left?**

**I stumbled onward, not seeing anything, not even my own form when I dared look down. All I knew was that I had to find the place where the voices were. Now and then I passed through others lost in that damnable mist. The cold shock of spectral contact stayed with me, increasing my alarm until my heart beat a frantic tattoo against my ribs.**

**I couldn't do it! I couldn't find them! Somehow I knew that if I found those voices, so long for, I would be whole again. I sank to the soft ground and despaired.**

**Thoughts swirled, memories teased and taunted; a big brick house set in a park of rolling green lawns and blooming flowers. A woman, dark hair and eyed, yet with skin like alabaster and a slender, delicate figure. A long lavender dress that floated in the breeze, a man, big and hearty with mutton chops that tickled my toddler skin as he held me close and laughed. The woman laughed, too, and he looked at her with eyes filled with unbearable tenderness and love.**

**Then later, the woman transformed, the lithesome figure one of awesome power, the eyes red and glaring. The man, the man who loved me so very much dropping to the ground with a cry, to lay there silent and unmoving.**

**Many different rooms, each shabbier than the last. Men in robes poking at me, praising the offspring of the high-level demoness, Elizabeth. I would be trained, taught by Raynor, the great mentor, personally. For Elizabeth...**

**Elizabeth. My mother. The author of my life's work. For Mother failed in her Life Assignment, and it was up to me to fulfill it. If I didn't...**

**Two golden soul vials, held in a gnarled fist with claws for nails. Muted pleas and then screams of unimaginable pain emanated from the tiny, flashing containers. In order to release my parents souls, to allow them eternal peace, I Cole Turner, must fulfill the work at which my mother had failed.**

**My mentor, my teacher, Raynor; the father I had never had, the father I was forced to kill in order to keep someone even more precious in my life.**

**Phoebe Halliwell. A Charmed One, a witch of great power. Where was she now? What time was it? What DATE?!**

**I had to find the voices. I had to know why I had been awakened. For this was Limbo, and one stayed in their unconscious state until it was their time to be judged.**

**Or, until they were needed to perform a special task. Or...**

**It was their fate to undergo the great rite of Redemption **

**San Francisco 2026**

**" Ow! " Chris Halliwell yelped as his brother, Wyatt, grabbed his bandaged arm and pulled him threw the crack in the stone wall.**

**" Stop being a wuss. " Wyatt grumbled, leading the way down the ill-lit spiral stairs until they reached a grey door that blended into the concrete.**

**" It's broke in two places! " Chris snitted back, " Not to mention the bullet wound! "**

**" You haven't shut UP about the damn bullet wound for an hour! " Wyatt snarled back in a soft voice, and then gave the coded knock on the door. In a few seconds, a black man in a wheelchair opened the door enough for the two men to slip through and then watched as Wyatt waved his hand, whispering an incantation. The door flared green for an instant and then returned to it's dirty grey color.**

**Darryl Morris grinned from his chair, his one eye sparkling as Chris handed him the backpack.**

**" I always feel better knowing you two are in here rather than out there. What's new on the streets? "**

**Darryl began emptying the backpack of the meager amounts of food the Halliwell brothers had managed to procure as Wyatt tended to his wounded brother and answered Darryl in a somber voice.**

**" Another " Cleansing " today. One hundred witches and whitelighters burned. Chris fought two guys for the scrawny old rooster you're holding there and ended up with this arm. "**

**" OUCH! Will you pay ATTENTION to what you're doing?! " Chris yowled as Wyatt yanked off the temporary bandage. He threw it aside and pointed a finger at his younger brother's nose.**

**" You open your mouth again, and I'll shoot you myself. Just shut it! "**

**Chris shook his head, mouthing " asshole " for Darryl's amusment, but stood quietly as Wyatt used his healing powers. As the golden glow faded away, Chris sighed and flexed the arm.**

**" Thanks. " Chris said, a grin on his face.**

**" Welcome. " Wyatt smiled back and then the two threw their arms around each other, hugging tight.**

**" Be more careful. " Wyatt whispered.**

**" Can't lose you, either. " Chris answered and Darryl beamed. After the loss of his own family in a " Cleansing " these two boys were his whole life...**

**" Whoa! " Darryl said, as the brothers broke apart, each punching the other in the back or arm, " I almost forget, your father stopped in! "**

**Wyatt sauntered to the old ice box that barely cooled anything and pulled out three juice packs. He tossed one at Chris who caught it easily, but opened Darryl's personally with a tenderness and concern that belayed his hardened exterior.**

**Leaning against the old table he answered Darryl.**

**" Well, Blessed-Fuckin'-Be. What's new in Cloud-Land? "**

**Chris choked back his laughter, but Darryl glared, bringing scarred hands up to his face to fix the eye patch that covered the empty socket.**

**" I know he's changed since your Mom..." Darryl's voice trailed off. He had loved the Halliwell sisters, The Charmed Ones. They were like blood to him, and having them gone, taken, whatever, just broke his heart.**

**Chris finished his juice and began to load the little cache of food into the old ice box. " He changed before Mom...left. He was more an Elder than a Father while I was growing up. "**

**" Doesn't matter. " Darryl said, his voice strong again, " He's your Father, and you respect that, you hear? Your Mother and your Aunts would want you to do that. "**

**Chris was in his mid-twenties, but somehow Darryl could still make him feel like a little kid. Wyatt, on the other hand, had no respect for a man who couldn't handle the hard times, and fled this world when it needed him most.**

**But, Darryl was family, loved and respected by both men. It would be a cold day in the Underworld before Wyatt Halliwell caused this man he loved any more distress than necessary.**

**" Okay, I'm sorry. " Wyatt said, although his jaw was set and there was no grin on his hewned features. " What did he want? "**

**Darryl wheeled himself to the sink that gave rusty looking water up grudgingly and washed his scarred and shriveled hands. When he finally turned around he had an almost serene look on his face. A look of Hope that had been missing for ten years.**

**" He's got someone who wants to help. Someone magical, powerful. Someone to who'll help you and your friends find and defeat this " Darkness " that hangs over us. Someone who'll stop the fighting and the shooting and the damn burnings of special people! "**

**" What? " Chris asked, a skeptical look on his too-thin face, " The second coming? "**

**Darryl grinned broadly, " Exactly. A second coming, but not from the Heavens, kid. From your past. Our past. "**

**" Who? " Wyatt asked, now curious and strangely apprehensive. Something was about to happen, something BIG. He knew it, he could feel it.**

**" Cole's back. " Darryl said, the fire still present in his eyes and voice. " He's had a " Cleansing " of his own. "**

**" A REDEMPTION? " Chris whispered, awestrucked. He exchanged an incredulous look with Wyatt. Redemption don't just happen. In fact, the last one was over twenty years ago. To convert a being of evil, to give him powers of both sides and the will, the need to do right to redeem himself, was a task not undertaken lightly. It was brutal, soul-breaking and often times fatal. That Cole had survived and was ready to join them amazed Chris Halliwell. It was almost beyond belief.**

**" No. " Wyatt said, ruffling his untrimmed hair. " No way. The chances of his Redemption holding is less than zero! "**

**Darryl nodded, " That's what your Father told him. And, do you know what Cole said? "**

**Without waiting for an answer from either young man he concluded his revelation.**

**" He said, " Impossible Odds? I love a Challenge. " "**

**Darryl wheeled towards the icebox. " C'mon, let's get that rooster ready for cooking. "**


	2. Chapter 1: Lessons From Limbo

**Redemption**

**Chapter 1: Lessons From Limbo**

**Crawling now; So tired, so discouraged. Exhaustion had set in, but I fought against it with all the strength I had within me. If I succumbed, I would be back in the unconsciousness of Limbo. They would know I wasn't up to the task that I was awakened for; If, by some miracle, Redemption was on the agenda, it would remain a distant dream, an impossible mission.**

**The voices were louder, and to my amazement I heard a murmur of encouragement. The greyness still engulfed me, I had nothing to guide me but those voices and my will to leave this living nightmare.**

**I stopped to catch my breath, and suddenly Raynor and my introduction to Demon 101 filled my head...**

**" I am Raynor, your Mentor, your teacher. It is my task to prepare you for your Life Assignment, the culmination of an Upper-Level demon's existence. Do you understand? "**

**I was only seven years of age, but I had witnessed my Mother kill my Father; and she had killed again and again...protecting us from the Bounty Hunters and other demons who were sent to destroy her and to take me away. Then, in a blink of an eye, a ball of flame hit Mother and she had screamed, twisting in agony, finally erupting in a dazzling display of lights. I was only seven years old, and I was totally alone in a hostile and unforgiving world.**

**When Raynor first appeared, he was tall, lithe, a man in his prime with golden hair and silver eyes. Now?**

**A grizzled old man in a plain black robe sat before me. He had a stout walking stick which he used to manuver through the rock caverns of the Underground. One foot was raised up on a stool, for gout plagued him, and did nothing to improve his ever uncertain temper. Intense dark eyes stared at me from a wrinkled and aged face, eyes which seemed to penetrate my very soul; a halo of grey, wiry hair completed the man who appeared older than the very rock that formed the walls around us.**

**How? Why? I pondered staring at him. Could all demons change their shape? Would I be taught to do that? The thought excited me, and I didn't see that stout walking stick coming my way until it hit the side of my head.**

**" I asked you a question and you ignore me? Me? The most loyal servant The Source of All Evil has ever had?! "**

**I grabbed for the wooden chair behind, fighting off the darkness that was closing in...**

**" I'm sorry, Sir. Yes, Sir, I understand, Sir. " I stammered, weakly, desperately trying to hold back my tears.**

**" That's better. " He rumbled, wincing as he changed position. " One Sir will do for now. Sit. "**

**" Yes, Sir. " I said, quickly, and sat in the old wooden chair. It creaked ominously, yet appeared strong enough to hold me.**

**Raynor looked at me long and hard. " You have your Mother's hair, her high cheek bones and I see height in your bones. Pity you have your Father's blue eyes. Elizabeth had eyes like polished onyx. They had just the tiniest bit of red flame in them..." He sighed almost longingly as his voice trailed off. Could it be that this demon had had feelings for my dead Mother? But...he had helped KILL her!**

**I was confused and missed the next few words he uttered, but quickly focused my attention. I would be given a room of my own. I would start off with the " Yellow Robes ", a part of the sect that held the youngest or the newest demons. We had powers, but had no clue how to use them or even what they were. As I learned, progressed, my robes would reflect my increased knowledge and status. The ultimate color, the black robes of an Upper-Level demon, could take me years to achieve; many years, as demons souless or not, aged slower and had a longer life span than any human. Unfortunately, few survived battles for supremacy, or against the forces of good. We may have been long lived, but few of us lived long!**

**" You will study with your companions during the day hours, yet after the evening meal, you will come to me and we will have...shall we say...special lessons. You will work hard, learn much. I will always be watching so do not think you can get away with anything. Remember, you are an " Undesireable "; learn quickly how to defend yourself. "**

**An Undesireable? Dare I ask what he meant? But there was no need as Raynor, sensing my confusion, proceeded to explain.**

**" You are the product of an unusual and disappointing mating; An Upper-Level demon and a human of all things! Better that she had mated with a troll or an elf than a common man! " **

**I sat very still trying to control my anger. My Father was NOT common! He had been an extremely wealthy, highly regarded member of Society. He had contributed to many causes, treated every person as an equal! He had been a good man, a caring man; And he had died because he was a human...**

**He had loved me unconditionally, with his whole heart. For that reason, too, he was condemned to death.**

**Raynor was centuries old, and was well versed in both demonic and human nature. He saw the stuggle on my face, for I was too young and inexperienced to disguise my true feelings.**

**" You were also born with two items that will plague you throughout your life. A Conscience and a Soul. No other demon in History has EVER had both of these deformities at the same time. You have much to overcome, much to prove. Come, we will find you an empty cell and get you settled. "**

**I stood respectfully as Raynor grunted and groaned to pull himself onto his feet, with the help of that painfully evil walking stick. I waited a moment and then risked further punishment by grasping one of his arms to help steady him; after all, what more could he do to me? I had been physically abused, my heritage impunged, told I was imperfect and barely fit to be a demon. He could kill me, I supposed, but I gathered that murder wasn't on his mind at this time. I took the risk.**

**As soon as he was leaning on his walking stick with both hands, I released him and moved back. Not quite out of reach of the dreaded stick, but far enough away that the blow, when it came, would be glancing.**

**To my surprise, Raynor surveyed me with those dark, penetrating eyes and then nodded briefly. Not only had I not been punished, he had acknowledged my assistance!**

**Was it any wonder that I grew to love this baffling, mercurial, manipulative and confusing demon?**

**I was back on my own feet, arms outstretched, trying to feel my way along in the ever present, formless mist.**

**Then, suddenly, my arm disappeared behind something. I paused, trying to use my other senses, but I was too tired, too overwrought. I followed the arm into...**

**An Aladdin's cave of color, light, movement and PEOPLE. People walked around in groups of two or more, laughing, chatting; some were clothed in gold robes, others in silver, but each and every one of them looked healthy, well-rested, well-fed and almost luminous to my sight-starved senses. I smelled food of the highest quality, saw precious works of art. Sweet music filled the air and a feeling of happiness surrounded me. That I looked like a madman; A naked madman at that I discovered after a quick downward glance, seemed not to faze these beings at all. **

**Three men in gold robes approached me, smiles of happiness on their faces. One by one I was tenderly embraced, and then the tallest, who looked vaguely familiar, welcomed me.**

**" The first and most crucial test has been passed. Your will to survive, to fight the loneliness and discouragement of Limbo was strong and true."**

**He rubbed his hands together, green eyes gentle behind rimless eyeglasses.**

**" Now, we begin. "**

**Chris Halliwell leaned against a decrepit building in the wharf district, casually smoking a cigarette.**

**He was hard pressed not to cough and hack, for Chris, himself, was not a smoker nor had he ever been one. But, in the world he now inhabited, messages could be conveyed in a multitude of ways, and the rhythm of inhaling and exhaling smoke was being read by other witches as they watched from the shadows or hurried by him without a noticable glance.**

**The message was of dire importance. Demons had infiltrated this area, one of the last strongholds that those of good magic could find safety. What would happen to his people now, he wondered? **

**The pain had started around three thirty in the morning. He had taken second watch, listening and feeling the very atmosphere around him. So intent was he that the headache was already well-established before he recognized it for what it truly was.**

**" Wy! " He whispered, hoarsely, and behind the old blanket that separated the room into living and sleeping areas, he heard his brother leap off the top bunk of the old set they had taken from the manor years ago. They had grown up sleeping in this bunk bed. Wyatt always on the top, although he would hang down off one side and they would talk far into the night. They had always been close.**

**" What is it? " Wyatt whispered and when Chris pointed to his head, a look of dejection followed by anger spread across the elder brother's face.**

**When Chris turned twelve, he began to have headaches. His parents had taken him to doctors who said the boy was entering puberty so these were expected. Or, he was stressed with school, home, life, etc. Piper, too long a Charmed One, and Leo, an Elder for many years were uneasy and impatient with the inefficency of the human doctors. Finally a Wiccan Practitioner was found and pronounced Chris's new power advancement. From premonitions, he now appeared to have formed the ability to sense demons and demonic activity. Depending on the proximity, the pain could be slight, or skull crushing in it's agony.**

**Chris had never been wrong, and Wyatt knew that. " How close? " He whispered even though they both knew that Darryl was awake in the old hospital bed they had been lucky enough to procure for him.**

**" Four, maybe five stories above us. " Chris whispered back, " The pain is easing, so they're moving away from us right now. "**

**" The charms are holding. " Wyatt said with a sigh of relief, but knew all too well that Evil had those with sensing powers of their own. If they were unlucky enough to run into a demonic senser, all the charms in the world would not avail them.**

**" I'll spread the word in the morning. " Chris told his brother, as Wyatt nodded.**

**" And I'll scout out a new location. " Wyatt answered and then exchanged a somber look with his younger brother.**

**Good was running out of places to hide. A war was coming, and like it or not, the fate of Magic would once again be placed on the line between good and evil.**

**" Maybe having an ex-demon on our side wouldn't be a bad thing. " Chris ventured as Wyatt slipped through the blanket to get a few more hours of sleep.**

**" And, maybe it would. " Wyatt retorted and climbed back into the top bunk. Chris sighed, shook his head, and hunkered down to finish his watch.**


	3. Chapter 2: DexterSinister

Redemption

Chapter 2: Dexter/Sinister

I was bent over, dry heaving on the ground, when the Elder who had sparked a dim recollection in my mind appeared. He waited patiently, placid and uncomplaining as I attempted to pull myself out of the depths of despair I had just been plunged into.

At my feet, a lovely twelve-year-old girl lay dead. I thought...I had seen...She appeared to shift shape and form, but so quickly that I was now unsure if it had been a trick of the light, the forest being dark and forboding. She had seemed different somehow, and I, taking my first lessons on Redemption to heart, saw her as a demon. A demon must be destroyed, the good, the innocent must be protected. A not unfamiliar concept to me, but one that I now knew I had never taken fully to heart.

I straightened up and looked at the Elder clad in golden robes that seemed to shimmer in the pale moonlight that shone from above. His hair was silver gilt, as was the small beard. Rimless eyeglasses perch on a straight nose, and the green eyes regarded me calmly, with a touch of affection, even. He was shorter than I, of stockier build with lines scoring his forehead and feathering out from the corners of his eyes.

I was still shaking, my breathing rapid. I knew I should look down once last time, commit the horror I had created to my memory; while I STILL had memory. This act, reprehensible and unprovoked except in my disordered mind, would send me back to the unconsciousness of Limbo. Of that I had little doubt.

I forced my gaze downward and saw...

Nothing.

I looked back up at the gently smiling Elder and felt the anger grow in my heart until it burst forth in a rage of words and movement. But even as I rushed the robed man, shrieking like the mad thing I was, he stood perfectly still. Just as my hands were ready to close around his throat, I found myself on the mossy ground, my mouth stretched wide in silent agony. Pain, the worst pain I had ever felt, flowed through me like an electrical current. Just when I began to pray for a quick return to Limbo, the pain abruptly ended, leaving me gasping and bathed in sweat. It was several moments before I could concentrate on the words flowing down from above me.

" As we discussed earlier, all things are ruled by the two opposing forces, named Dexter and Sinister. But you must remember that the two are also one and it is only our ability to use our senses that we may choose the right path. Did you do so? "

" No, I did not. " I answered, still spent with muscles twitching as if the current of pain still flowed in their memory.

" Arise, Belthazor. We have much to do and time is running out. "

I found myself finally able to move, and obediently fell in step next to the man who ruled my new destiny.

He was appearing more and more familiar, and the idea that I knew him grew with each passing second. It teased me, dancing like the wisps of grey fog that filled Limbo, just out of reach.

" What were your mistakes? " He asked and I thought carefully before I answered.

" I used only the sense of sight and relied on my old ways of perception. "

He nodded, absently. " Why did you choose to use a fireball to kill with? "

" If it had been a real demon, a shape-shifter, it would have indicated the need to use killing force. " I answered as we plodded along.

He stopped and turned to look at me. " Explain. "

I had thought such a notion needed no explanation, but the pain, oh, the memory of that pain!

" Upper Level demons are always dispatched with fire power if possible. "

And suddenly my mind disconnected and I was back on my small stool, proudly wearing the medium blue robes of a newly consecrated mid-boy, listening raptly as my teacher spoke...

" Fire power is our most reliable means of permanent dispatch, but you must be cautious. Some of the lower level demons will actually receive a power boost from fire and a few of the lowest of life forms will actually replicate themselves when struck. " Raynor shook his head in disgust and drained the pewter mug he held in his hand. " Bottom-feeders, like gnats. Ought to be exterminated. " He muttered, grumpily placing the mug on the table to his right.

I was up in a flash, bringing the earthenware pitcher that contained the revolting grog my teacher drank to reduced the pain in his injured leg. I had, after a few years with him, ventured to ask about the malady. To my surprise, he gave me an answer instead of a clout to the head.

" Ah, yes. This happened many centuries ago, of course, and Chimera are rarely seen nowadays, but the wound you receive from such a creature continues to worsen as time passes. "

" Are there no incantations, Sir? " I had asked with the proper humility and respect, and was again rewarded with civil conversation. For once.

Perhaps I should think more kindly of said revolting grog, as it appeared to mellow my mentor, thus improving my chances of a pain-free lesson.

He shook his bushy head, " No, nothing of the likes. The Sorcerers tried many things, but none have help so far. You do know what happens to lackies who fail us, don't you, Turner? "

" They do not live to fail us twice, Sir. " I answered with a grin that bordered on cheeky, and Raynor smiled an almost, but not quite pleasant smile in return.

" Good lad. Back to your lessons, now..."

"...now Energy power can do marvels, yet once again we must ascertain that the proper removal method is employed on the proper demonic entities...Are you listening, boy?! "

I jerked upright on my stool, and saw the left hand twitch towards the heavy old cane.

" Forgive me, Sir. I was thinking about some of the newer incantations I have been learning and wondered if any of them could, perhaps, ease some of your discomfort. "

The wrinkled faced mottled an unbecoming shade of red, and I bowed my head, awaiting the blow that I knew was coming. It really didn't even bother me anymore...

Could heads become as callused as other body parts?

To my amazement, nothing happened and I looked up to see Raynor, still angered, yet showing remarkable restraint.

" You want..to ease...my discomfort? By all that is Evil, why?! "

" It grieves me to see such a great demon as yourself in pain. Although you hide it remarkably well, I mean no offense, Sir! "

Dear Demons! Was I mad? Ah well, as I had observed before, one could only be slain once...

The color faded from the face, and a small, amost invisible sparkle showed in the wise old eyes. And I, felt a most curious warmth in my stomach...

And, my heart.

Raynor nodded, and then stretched out an arm. " Help me up, boy, I am wearied. You are dismissed for the night. "

I helped the old demon up and bowed my head respectfully as I made for the wooden door of his cave-like room. There I turned back, hesitated, then spoke my farewell.

" May His Lordship, Our Master, grant you as comfortable a night as your rank deserves, Sir. " The traditional farewell from one such as I to my mentor and surrogate father.

Raynor bobbed his head again, stiffly, and I turned to exit. As I was closing the door, I was sure my hearing was defective...

For behind me, Raynor murmured, " Until tomorrow...Cole. "

He never hit me again...

I blinked and found myself back in the forest, the moonlight filtering through the trees to shine on the closed eyes of the Elder standing by a small stream of water. He appeared to be meditating, but before I could think of a polite way to interrupt, he sighed and opened his eyes.

" Why did that particular event come to your mind? " He asked me in a quiet voice.

I shrugged, wiping my sweating palms on the side of the grey petitioner's robes I was wearing. " You asked about the reasoning behind my choice of killing techniques..." I began to explain, only to have him wave a hand in a gesture of impatience.

" This..Raynor. He was special to you? " He asked.

" Yes. " I answered in a slightly clipped and surly tone. " Like a father to me. "

The Elder smiled, " And yet...were you not the instrument of his destruction? "

" I was. " I acknowledged. Why lie about it? He already knew all my thoughts. The bastard.

" How did you feel...after? "

I opened my mouth to respond, and then hesitated. How did I feel after killing the three leaders of The Brotherhood of the Thorn?

I was injured, exhausted, mentally vulnerable. Relief? Yes, of course. But wasn't there just a hint of something else?

A feeling? A bit of warmth drained from the sun? Did I not wish for the ability to alter time? To take back the ending of the lives of my three closest friends?

" I felt...grief. "

The Elder was silent, his eyes probing mine. Finally he nodded, smiled and gestured for me to follow him once more.

" Feelings are painful at times, but the ability to love, to lose and to learn to love again is what separates you from the true demons. We will walk and you will listen. And, remember, Belthazor; Dexter and Sinister. They will reside within you for the rest of your time on this Earth. "

I followed obediently, tried to listen with full concentration, yet as those words sunk deeper into my mind I began to wonder...

Was " Redemption " really worth going through the pain, the loss of self, and the inevitable loss of my mind yet again? Was this what I truly wanted?

Time would tell...

Wyatt slipped through the partially opened door, passing a few small crates to Chris.

" How's the headache? " Wyatt asked his younger brother, as Darryl wheeled around gathering the stacked belongings the three men had scattered about.

Chris shrugged, " Gone now. Got bad outside, but you must have put something pretty repellent into those Charms. "

Wyatt grinned, " Yeah, I learned about the demonic dislike for Mandrake from Aunt Paige. Guess it's kinda like Wolf's Bane to Werewolves. "

Darryl rolled his eyes and muttered, " Don't you dare wish any of those things on us, too! " He then wheeled into the one closet to beginning deciding what to take and what to leave behind.

" Don't forget the Book, Darryl! " Wyatt called and Darryl yelled back.

" Oh, right. I'm gonna leave The Book of Shadows sitting on a shelf in concrete bunker! Jeez! "

Both brothers choked back laughter. Darryl's grumpiness was part act and both of them knew it.

Wyatt opened his mouth to tell Chris about the place he had found, when a flash of white lights filled the room, coalescing into the form of their father, Leo Wyatt.

" Blessed Be. " He said mildly, pushing the hood of his gold robe back. " There is no need to flee yet, you will wait here for further instructions. "

Wyatt dumped a handful of books on the table and then turned to give his father a scathing look.

" How dare you flit down here and tell us what to do or not to do?! You have no clue what life is like for us here! "

" Wyatt! " Darryl yelled, rolling his chair back around the corner. " What did I say to you? Huh?! "

Chris stayed in the background, watching Wyatt glare at their father and then finally turn a more gentle face towards Darryl.

" I'm sorry, Darryl, but he has no CLUE...! "

" Whether or not he has a clue doesn't matter! One, he's an Elder and you have to respect that and Two, he's your Dad and you have to respect that even more! " Darryl retorted, a frown of disapproval on his scarred features.

Wyatt held himself, stiffly, and then turned back to face Leo. He gazed over his father's head, and muttered an apology between gritted teeth.

" I apologize...Sir. "

Chris cleared his throat and addressed his father, " While we are glad for your input, it's simply too dangerous here. Demons have..."

" Yes, yes, I know. " Leo said in a tired voice, " You are occupued, I understand this. But, I come from the Council, and they, the Leaders of BOTH sides, ask that you await your instructions here. "

" There, you see? " Darryl said, smugly, " They've got a " CLUE " after all. "

Wyatt's deep breath was released slowly, and was not unlike a hiss. " Fine. We'll stay here. But, we want you to know that we don't approve. "

" You don't have to approve or understand. You must obey. " Leo Wyatt said, outwardly impassive, while inwardly he was shaken to the core of his being.

How like Piper, he thought. How very much Wyatt resembles his Mother. His anger was born of frustration, fear and the feeling that he, and he alone, was responsible for the welfare of all in the magical community. After all...

He was The Chosen One.

Leo glanced at Chris, saw how thin and weedy he was, but still such a beautiful young man. Chris grinned at his father and Leo couldn't help but grin back. Chris, too, resembled Piper, but the light-hearted Piper...

The Piper who had disappeared as "The Darkness" grew stronger.

Chris saw the wistful look on his father's face. Gone was the ultra-calm and collected Elder. This was the face of the father he had adored. The father who had deserted them. Yet, for some unknown reason, Chris's anger was a fleeting thing. He didn't hold on to it, nor did he nurture it as Wyatt did.

" When will we see the demon? " Wyatt asked, and Leo turned back to face him, the impassive Elder once more.

" No demon will be joining you. A former demon, now a Guardian who has undergone the Right of Redemption, will join you shortly. He is settling into the area you will all be living in together. " Leo answered, then began to raise his hood once more.

" What?! Wait a minute! I'm not living with HIM! " Wyatt sputtered in surprise, but all Leo did was restore his hood and place his arms into the sleeves of his robe.

" You have no choice. You must obey. Blessed Be. " With that parting remark, the blue-white lights shimmered briefly and were gone.

Wyatt heaved a book at the battered old fridge, and stormed out of the door...


	4. Chapter 3: A Guardian Is Born

Redemption

Chapter 4: A Guardian Is Born

Back in the dark, dank woods, stalking my prey, using the senses I was born with and the demon senses I had acquired. The Elder wanted me to have a balance between the Dexter and the Sinister, and a compromise had been reached. I would have the ability to orb, sense my charges slash comrades, heal, and produce protective forces fields. But...

I would also have the ability to use energy and fire balls, not to mention use my demonic sensing ability. Of course, the downside of that had been established a long time ago. If I could sense them, then THEY were able to sense me. A trade off that had to be, must be allowed.

There were other powers, not spoken of, but understood. The way that good could subdue and extract information from someone or something was an unknown quality, but I was assured that the ability had been placed inside of me.

The training was vile; more horrible than anything I had endure during my demonic school years...

Except for one instance.

Each High Level demon had a human and a demonic persona. One had to be able to assume their demonic side in an instant, but so far, I had been unable to change from Cole Turner into Belthazor, my demon half...

Raynor sighed, and rubbed his bleary eyes with arthritic fingers. " You are not listening, Cole! " He grumbled wearily.

I stood before him, my dark grey robe an affront to his and my eyes. I was almost one hundred human years old, and still, STILL wore the robes of a lesser demon. For I could not, had not yet found the very trigger necessary to make the transformation.

I bowed my head, mostly to hide my gritted teeth than from any false respect. Raynor and I had walked too many miles together to even pretend to have a Master and Pupil relationship anymore. Still it pleased me to please him occasionally, so I thought I'd take the road of humbleness just for amusement purposes.

" I am listening, Sir and I am trying! "

Two hands pounded the old wooden table into toothpicks as Raynor came roaring out of his chair...

" Then, WHY?! Tell me what I am to tell our Master THIS YEAR? So sorry, Your Lordship, but Turner just hasn't gotten all the humanness out of his thick skull?! "

So much for humble.

I knelt and kept my head down, silently absorbing the abuses that rained down upon me. I hardly listened, as they hadn't changed for the last ten years.

" A trigger, Boy! " Raynor snarled and then grew quite still and silent above me. A moment passed, and then another...

Finally, I dared to look upwards, only to see Raynor staring off into the distance; his mouth was moving but no sound issued forth, and I wondered if I had given the almost six hundred year old master demon a stroke. No such luck.

" Trigger...human...think, think, think! " Raynor muttered, slowly lowering himself back into his chair.

I watch him closely and saw, for the first time in many years, the true demon who lived within my mentor. He had the solution, and I felt cold dread wash over me as those black eyes danced with an unearthly fire.

" You will meet me with your Clan in the Proving Grounds in one quarter of an hour. " Raynor said in a relatively normal voice, although the glowing eyes bore into my skull.

I rose, bowed and went to gather those of my clan as I had been instructed. What else could I do? I was stuck in this no-demon land, stuck...

But...perhaps not for much longer?

I was there, on time, my Clan members surrounding me in a half circle. Vornac whacked my back and Klea, a lovely and seductive demoness in training, whispered an encouraging word. We waited, but Raynor did not arrive.

It was then that I heard the noises, muted at first but becoming more and more horrible as the volume slowly rose. I saw the red velvet robes shimmering in the torchlight, which also reflected the shine of the twin golden soul vials held with contemptious amusement in a claw-like hand.

They spun and twinkled, the voices inside calling to me to help them to release them from their torture. My parents. Their souls. I remembered little after that...

I can back to myself in my small cell. I was lying on my pallet, an anxious Klea and Vornac on either side. I saw the crisp black robes but didn't care how or why I was wearing them, but I did notice that my friends robes were scorched and they appeared bruised, cut and generally disheveled.

I had done it. The " Trigger " had been found and applied and I was now a full-fledged Upper Demon. It was then that I saw Raynor in the corner of the room. Our eyes locked and although I heard Klea chatter on about dead and wounded demons, a destroyed Proving Ground, my wonderous and flawless performance, I stared at my Mentor, one question in my eyes...

Were they real? The soul vials? Perhaps an illusion?

WERE THEY REAL?!

Raynor nodded once, coldly, and turned and walked away. I had succeeded, yet in a peculiar way I had failed him. My human distress over the fate of those two souls was the only trigger that worked.

I had made a mockery of his years of training and teaching. He had wrapped his evil hands around my soul, yet could not dislodge it.

So be it. Upper Level demon I would be, but now more than ever, I was determined to cling to what little humanity I had left.

In a breath of time I was back in the black night of the woods; my NEW Proving Grounds, and the Elder, whose glamoured image melted a bit more upon each meeting, appeared.

" Fascinating. " He murmured. " That Evil taught it's co-horts with the same precision and care as Good has done for it's own side. That the very thing they tried to take from you, they finally had to use to acheive what they wanted. Most interesting. "

I turned towards the gentle voice and the golden robe but stopped. A flicker of movement, a change in the feel of the air. A Trap!

I moved back with my newly re-awakened skills of grace and stealth. Soon, I was undetectable from the trees, the rocks, the water. I smelled the air, tasted the scents swarming around me, strained my sight and hearing to the upmost.

The Elder...

In a blur of motion I was behind him, his body frozen, his will mine for the taking.

As long as he remained still, no harm would come, but any reactive movement...and all bets were off. I forced him to turn, to confront me.

Hot blue met cool green as our eyes locked and the rest of the glamour fell away. Leo Wyatt stood revealed to me; stood in MY powers for once.

I grinned, probably not a pleasant sight, but I wasn't in a pleasant mood. " You know, Leo, first as a Whitelighter, then as an Elder, you always remained so fascinated by the making of demons. Our craft, our clans, our ways. Can't be very healthy for one such as you, correct? "

Leo grinned back in an equally unpleasant way, and flashed out a hand. I was able to throw myself to the side just in time to avoid the sting of the poisoned dagger that had been raised behind me back.

I was able to finish the demon off myself with a mere flick of the wrist, then I pulled myself to my feet. Once again, defeated by Good.

" No, Belthazor, that is where all your problems past and present flow from. The duality of YOU, the Dexter and the Sinister MUST always balance! If they are not..."

The cool voice trailed away as I wiped a shaky hand across my sweating face. I no longer cared what they did to me, they could put me back in the nothingness of Limbo and I would thank them!

" Ready to give up? Again? " The voice was devoid of expression, but I heard the mockery.

I straightened up and faced The Elder...Leo. My one-time friend. I shook my head, and then sank down on a rock. It was time, and he knew it. He occupied a fallen log, and there, deep in the Proving Grounds, we made our peace.

" If I have no knowledge of what I must face, how can I ever be ready? " I asked, a geniune note of frustration and fear evident.

Leo nodded, and bowed his head for a moment. He appeared to be having an inner conversation with himself, or some force unseen to me, but he finally nodded again and looked at me.

The placid and gentle Elder was gone. Leo Wyatt sat across from me, the Leo I had known, fought with, worked with and cared about.

" I'm suppose to let you find your own path. The rules of Redemption are strict, and bound by time and tradition, but..." His voice trailed off.

" I can't help if I don't KNOW. " I reminded him, but in a gentle voice. Leo had broken his share of rules in his day, but now it was difficult for him to stray too far. Too much had changed.

Too much was at stake.

" Piper and I had three children together. " He began, slowly, then appeared to lose himself in the land of memories.

" Wyatt, the Chosen One. The most powerful force of good ever born, or so we thought at the time. Yet our second son, Chris was also powerful and between the two brothers they possessed all the powers that Good ever dreamed of. "

" After the final battle, Piper and her sisters felt safe. We struggled, we fought, and we had triumphed. Paige and Phoebe married, had children, and we finally had that daughter that the future had fortold. Melinda Prudence. Our life was good, we thought we had won. Oh, the odd demon popped up now and then, but they were no more than pests. They were disposed off in the same manner as a pest would be. "

Mistake number one, I thought. Yes, the Underworld was destroyed and all the demons in it, but those above ground, the Shadow Beings, Shape-Shifters...some of the deadliest and most cunning survived...I jerked my attention back to Leo's story.

"...on the day of Melinda's thirteenth birthday, I appeared from above to join in the family celebration. Instead of my wife and children, nieces, nephews, I was greeted two hysterical boys in a ruined mansion; every room filled with carnage, the walls dripped blood. I found what was left of my precious daughter, but the Charmed Ones were just...gone. Their blood was there, but no bodies, no sign of them. The Book of Shadows was found in it's hiding place and I took it and my sons and fled. "

" I must explain that we had all been uneasy for a while. In fact, for three years before the attack, a growing darkness chilled those of us who had fought the final war. Evil was on the move, witches and whitelighters were disappearing. And, demons..."

" Were reappearing. " I finished for him. " Explain about this " Darkness. " You have alluded to it before. "

Leo sighed, " I cannot add much. It was a feeling, a growing certainty that while we had been celebrating the victory of what turned out to be a minor skirmish, our enemies were winning the war. The World...changed. You could see it, feel it. The manor that I had abandoned vanished from normal sight, but Wyatt could see through the demonic shielding. Evil had a new home. Soon Martial Law was imposed, and the " Cleansings " began. " He went on to describe the events in pedantic detail, but I was already thinking ahead...

Evil had gained a foothold in the Upper World, a feat my Mentor and Master of the past had waged a war of particular ferocity for many centuries.

I dimly heard that Phoebe and Paige's husbands met their ends in a " Cleansing " while my old friend Darryl Morris lost his family and a good part of himself before being rescued by the Halliwell Brothers. What happened to Phoebe and Paige's children, I wondered?

I heard the emotional pain enter Leo's voice, and help up my hand to stop the flow of horror.

" I know enough now and I thank you for reliving the pain for my benefit. " I said in a very somber and gentle tone. This Elder had seen horrors and suffered wounds that even I shied away from. I got to my feet and he followed, standing in placid patience again, his arms crossed, hands folded.

" What now? " He asked, and my response brought a smile to his face. A smile of relief and something akin to respect.

" Now? Now we truly begin. " I answered him.

Chris knew where Wyatt would be. They were creatures of habit, always aware that the loss of one would doom the other; and all other members of their kind.

The cemetery was still intact, as if death itself forced a truce between Good and Evil. Neither side thought of the area as a place to consolidate power.

Wyatt was where Chris knew he would be, sitting on the ground by Melinda's grave, wiping clean the small headstone. Silently, he joined his older brother, absentmindedly pulling weeds and overgrown grass from the area around the gravesite.

" Do you remember why we couldn't save her? " Wyatt asked in a low voice and Chris thought carefully. Finally he shrugged and shook his head. " No, I don't remember anything from the time Mom took the cake out of the oven until the time that Dad arrived. "

Wyatt nodded, " Me, either. Something happened to us that day. Some force stopped us from saving our baby sister, and protecting our Mother and our Aunts. "

Chris nodded, but Wyatt didn't even look his way...

" I'm going to find out who did this! We've hid in the shadows long enough, and what good has it done us?! " Wyatt seethed through clenched teeth.

Chris opened his mouth to calm his brother. Since Wyatt was young, extreme shifts of mood had a bad habit of making things explode, and dusk was already drawing near. They were vulnerable.

Before he could utter any words, though, a voice sounded behind them. A cool voice, with a slighly taut diction. A voice that brought to mind many things, one being...

Safety?

Wyatt was already on his feet, deploying his exploding power, but to their amazement, the tall man in black jeans and a brown bomber jacket just gazed at them with sea colored eyes.

" What good has it done you? It's kept you alive to fight another day. Now..."

" We Begin...Together. "


End file.
